Morning comes too early. It seems my eyes are never ready for the sun when it rises. I think sometimes that it is old age trying to gets it’s shots in early. After getting the boys off to school I set into a day of things to do not enough time in the day to do them. I take out the trash and started to break down boxes I had emptied the day before. I was determined that I was going to unpack everything before the week was up “this is finally home”
Caught in the bottom flap of one of the boxes fell a postcard, I almost threw it away, but guilt of disregarding a memory I had at least once in my life thought valuable enough to keep. I picked it out of the trash can and started to read. “Oh my God! It is Ruffo!”
I met Ruffo at the Fall Festival, the week of my 17th birthday. He was a Carney and I was hanging out with my two older sisters. Although I liked him it was a sister moment and they were busy teaching me how to flirt and pick up men. I stayed away from the thought of a boyfriend for the past year and I really wasn’t looking for a boyfriend now. I was just having fun. Poor Ruffo didn’t have a chance.
I showed some interest in him and a few other workers, they were dirty and loud. They were not from around our area so they were just exotic enough that I was a little more interested than I thought I would be. But Ruffo was just a little cuter, just a little more shy then the rest. He gave my sisters and I free rides and I came back every day to spend time with him, even brought him lunch one day and he asked off early to spend the rest of the evening with me.
I asked him where he was staying and the other carneys overheard our conversation and started to tease him why he would just take me back to the hotel they all shared. He got angry and pulled me away, “I don’t want you around the other guys, Debby, they aren’t good people”
Ruffo and I spent a great week together. I liked him, but I cannot say I loved him. Even our kisses were lacking a passion. He felt a little more involved than I did though and when the week was up and the troop were going to move on to the next city he told me he was going back to Chicago and was going to get a real job and send for me. Now here was my thought even at 17, sure it would be nice to live away from home, he was a good guy and he was cute maybe the love part would grow, and I was 17 and still I remember all the dreams of future and plans told by others that fell apart. What made this story any different than the others?
After a year of talking on the phone and posts I lost interest, I was done dreaming and talking about love and a life together, I ended up giving into the real world. My 18th birthday ushered in a new experience. I was introduced to Keith. At the end of the week, my friend arranged a date on my 18th birthday, my friend had been dating Keith’s brother , He was a very attractive man,25 years old, Light colored black, once a male stripper and spent some time in the military. I was very pleased to be out with such a secure, respectful and lets face it (well built man).
He was no doubt experienced in more than stripping.He kept his hands on me all evening and when he asked for me to come in his house… well I just followed. He made it quite clear that he was interested in more than fondling. I had never really done more in the past. Ben had showed me other ways to please than actual intercourse.
I do not quite know what I had wanted from the evening, but I knew that I didn’t want to be raped. When it started to become uncomfortable, his bites and pushing, holding to tight. He was rushed and angry, tearing at my cloths “Relax” he whispered as he continued to pull at my pants. “I am a virgin!” I yelled and he did stop. He sat up and lit a cigarette and smiled at me, “Why didn’t you say so? I will be gentle with you. I have had lots of virgins” When I tried to put my cloths back on he stopped me, and started kissing me again this time slower, softer. I started to get uncomfortable the closer he came to penetrating me and I became stiff. “Don’t be a child!” he held tight to my wrists.
With one arm trapped behind my back and the other pinched between my stomach and a bent knee, now pressed against my chest, I was unable to put up much of a fight. He held his hand over my mouth to muffle the screams and the other hand held my leg in place as his weight kept me down.
My head banged on the wall with every thrust and tears ran down my long blonde hair. He whispered in my ear as the sex became natural and erythematic. “See you just needed someone to take it from you. Now doesn’t that feel good?” I finally just relaxed and watched him staring at me. The breaths he took with every painful throw and I watched the faces he made just as he was getting ready to cum. “Yeah Yeah Yeah, feel it?” The damage had already been done.
The weird thing is I wasn’t sure if I was mad at him, I wondered if he was right and would I have just stayed a virgin my whole life because I was afraid of going farther. I remember returning back to his a place a week later, wanting more, wanting to learn more. I started visiting Keith for regular lessons. He opened up a little to me and told me about a few stories of his life but it was not a real bonding experience. In fact I liked that I was able to learn and be with a man and not have to worry about expectations or labels. There were literally no emotions.
It felt like bushing my hair… slightly painful but necessary and in the end very satisfying and I always walked away from his place feeling better about myself. I felt like I was learning to be a better lover, a better woman.
At the same time I was still writing and calling Ruffo. Even though I still felt a connection with my dreamer it didn’t feel real. I couldn’t touch him and I wasn’t able to see that far into the future like he could. I finally explained to him the torture I felt when I talked to him, the uncertainty of our relationship. I suggested that he stop calling, writing and only contact me when he was ready to send for me.
I hold the post card in hand now, seemed odd. I called information in Chicago and although the phone number was unlisted the address was the same. I am not sure what I wanted, but as I wrote the letter the words just seem to flow out. Apologizing for leaving him, for forgetting him, and telling him how my life had turned out so far. I hoped he was well and that he married and had tons of children. I put my phone number and waited to see if that was indeed the Ruffo I knew so long ago.
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